19. Weston
WESTON
H arbor’s straddling me, her luscious tits pressed up against my bare chest, her scent filling my nose. The floral notes of her shampoo mix with the musky, heady smell of desire, and I’m a fucking goner.
I slide my fingers through her wetness, swirl the pad of my thumb over her swollen clit. Arousal coats my fingers as I slip inside her for the first time.
I’m positive it won’t be the last .
She tenses around my hand as I move in and out, one finger, then two, her eyes fluttering closed as she gives into me.
She’s so damn beautiful like this, her head tipped back slightly, exposing the long lines of her neck. Golden waves of hair flow over her bare shoulders, nipples tight and rosy.
Undone.
This is exactly how I pictured her in my fantasies, pretty pink lips curving into a slow smile as I work her hot, slick heat .
Mine.
The word pops into my head, echoing through my mind with each thrust of my hand.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
I’ve never been this possessive. Never wanted to claim someone as completely as I do her, desire overriding all rational thought.
The sort of thinking that destroys captains and their teams.
This could turn out very, very badly. For both of us.
She sighs, a happy little exhale, bringing me back to the present moment.
I’ll stress about the million and one ways this thing could go sideways later. Right now, I need to focus on the goal—ruining Harbor for any other man.
Ever.
Easing my fingers from her body, I bring them to my lips. Her eyes pop open in surprise.
“What…” She gazes up at me with glassy eyes. “Why’d you stop?”
I suck my fingers, slurping her juices from my skin and never breaking eye contact.
“I needed to taste you.”
“Oh.” Her lips form a surprised little circle.
“Fucking divine. Addictive.” I finish licking my fingers, then seize her mouth in a hot kiss. Sliding my tongue between her lips so she can taste herself.
Palming her ass, I lift her until her pussy hovers over my cock.
“I’ve been thinking about this way more than I’d like to admit,” I murmur, inching the tip of my dick into her. “How tight and wet you’d be.”
She opens her legs wider, taking more of me in. “And?”
“You’re even better than I dreamed.” I push further inside, muscles tensing, then relaxing as I massage her ass. “That’s good, baby. Breathe.”
A tiny puff of air dusts my chest as she exhales, a pink blush coloring her cheeks.
“You’re doing so well.” I squeeze her ass, nipping at the delicate skin of her neck. She relaxes against me and I thrust all the way in until there’s no space left between us.
“Oh my god, Weston…” she whispers, almost reverently, and I’m literally in heaven. Harbor’s arms wrapped around me, my dick buried deep inside her.
Brushing a stray hair from her eyes, I touch my lips to hers. Soft at first, then harder and deeper. She squeezes my cock with her muscles and starts moving her hips, rocking against me.
Fuck, yeah.
I meet her thrust for thrust, matching her rhythm and pacing.
This woman’s absolute perfection, riding my cock like she owns me.
Which, in this moment, she 100% does.
Hands fly, our skin slapping as she rides me in the dark media room.
Harbor fucking Hayes, coming undone on my lap like a rowdy cowgirl. Riding me like it’s her motherfucking job.
I’m catapulting through space right now, white-hot sparks zinging through me, my balls tingling with the familiar pressure signaling a release.
Clutching her ass, I piston harder, faster, deeper, chasing the climax. I know she’s close—her face and chest flushed, breathing ragged, a light sheen of sweat beading at her brow.
I brush my lips against the shell of her ear and whisper, “Come for me, Harbor. Let go and fucking come. ”
That’s all it takes to rocket her over the edge, muscles spasming as she cries out. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…”
I don’t let up, even as her body shakes against my chest. Instead, I drive harder into her hot, tight pussy. Harder, faster, and deeper, her nails clawing at my lats. I’m going to have scratch marks—may even be bleeding—but it will be worth it.
“Fuck me…” I hiss, finally exploding my release.
I slump against the cool leather chair, spent and sated, panting like I just did sprints.
“That was fucking fantastic…” I close my eyes and try to catch my breath, spasms of pleasure rolling through me.
Harbor trails her fingers over my chest, my abs, her breathing still uneven. For a perfect moment, the world outside this room doesn’t exist. No team, no cameras, no consequences.
I want to freeze time, hold her here. Just like this.
Her phone buzzes against the floor, shattering the spell. She stiffens against me, and the air around us shifts.
“That was…intense.” She eases off my lap, being careful not to dislodge the condom.
The cool air of the room hits my skin and suddenly, I’m chilled. Chilled and hyperaware that I’m naked and alone as she snatches her bra and panties from the floor, hastily throwing the undergarments back on.
Covering herself.
And there it is, the walls going back up. Professional Harbor reasserting control over the woman who just came apart in my arms.
I recognize the pattern because I’m about to do the same damn thing .
I wanted to hold onto this, to her, to the possibility of us. Like it could change something. But it doesn’t.
I’m still the captain trying to save his team. And she’s still the PR consultant trying to prove herself.
But having tasted her, touched her—it makes leaving this media room and going back to how things were—that much harder.
“God, Weston. This complicates everything.” Her eyes flash with conflict, desire warring with reality.
“It doesn’t have to.” I carefully roll the condom off my dick, wadding it in tissue to dispose of somewhere more private. Can’t leave behind the evidence.
“It does. You know it does. No one can know about this.” Her expression shifts as she steps into her skirt, pulls up the zipper.
I blink, fighting through the sex haze we created only a few seconds ago.
“What?”
“This—” She waves her hand through the air, motioning between us. “You and me. We probably shouldn’t have done this.”
An icy wave of regret washes over me, dampening the post-orgasmic high.
Harbor’s already retreating. Erasing what happened before it can even matter.
Or she’s doing what she’s been taught to do. Flee before anyone gets hurt. Hide behind professional responsibilities and protect your heart.
When things get messy, when emotions threaten control, retreat to safety. Her dad’s voice is probably echoing in her head the same way mine’s telling me to protect the team at all costs .
This is my chance to say something meaningful, fight for the possibilities.
But I can’t.
She’s right. There’s too much on the line. The team, her job.
We’re doing the right thing. Protecting ourselves and our futures.
Even if it sucks.
I shrug. “You’re right. We probably shouldn’t have.”
She pauses, her eyes wide for a long second, like she’s stung. Then she slides her blouse over her shoulders, focusing on the neat row of buttons.
“So, one-time thing then?”
My gut tightens and sinks.
Fight for it, Weston. Don’t let her walk away.
“Sure. One-time thing.”
“Okay.” She pulls her hair back into a ponytail, slipping her feet back into her stilettos. “That’s the safest thing. For both of us. One time only, to get it out of our system. Deal?”
Harbor stares at me and I swallow back a grimace.
Now we’re making a fucking deal? Might as well slap a contract on the desk and make it really fucking official.
Like what just happened between us was some kind of business transaction and not the most intense connection I’ve felt since…maybe ever.
I nod, taking in those hazel eyes still sparkly from the sex. Anything to avoid admitting that what just happened did, in fact, change everything between us.
“Deal.”
“Great. Because we still have to be professional. We can’t let whatever this was…” She waves her hand again an d acid rises, burning the back of my throat. “Ruin our relationship. You know?”
I suck my teeth and nod. “Yeah. You’re right.”
Ducking down, I grab my shorts and T-shirt, shove the condom into my bag. I throw my clothes on as quickly as humanly possible. I have to get out of here, and fast.
“Alright then. I’ll see you around.”
Tossing my duffel over my shoulder, I hustle out of the media room without looking back. Dick deflated and ego bruised, wondering when the hell I became the guy who chooses being a good captain over being a man who goes after what he wants.
And why I keep letting the best things in my life slip away without a fight.